


When You Break

by BloodEnvy



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Smut, pure fucking smut in an alleyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 06:49:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15261774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodEnvy/pseuds/BloodEnvy
Summary: Set during "I Was Made to Love You"Buffy runs into Spike on her way from her first encounter with April, and puts her hands on his "hot, tight little body".





	When You Break

“So who do you think the lucky guy is?” The other Scoobies turned towards Xander as he let out an ‘ow!’, courtesy of Anya landing a fist on his bicep. “Not… not that kind of… sarcasm, honey!”

Anya eyed him suspiciously, but backed off. Willow offered a shrug, each of the girls wearing expressions holding a mixture of both confusion and worry. Buffy winced as she touched her shoulder. She was getting really sick of normal looking people who seemed to be harbouring a tendency of throwing her across the room. At least it was going to heal quickly… a couple of hours and she’d be fine.

Xander and Willow had helped her off of the floor as soon as the shock had worn off, and they’d attempted to melt into the crowd. People were still glancing at Buffy every few moments. Someone was shouting about the cops being on the way, and Buffy sighed.

“That’s my queue.”

“What, you worried they’ll arrest you for being used as a Frisbee?” Xander winced as Willow smacked him on the arm. “Okay, can everyone please stop hitting me?” Anya offered him a pout and snuggled into his side, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Willow shrugged, a teasing smile on her face.

“More worried someone tells them, and I have to spend the next few hours in the emergency room.” Buffy explained, lowering her voice. “Not exactly top of the to-do list. Meet you guys at the Magic Box as soon as you can get past the fuzz?”

After their nods of confirmation, the blonde offered them all a thin smile before slipping past Tara, ducking her head as she made her way through the crowd and out onto the street. She’d barely made it fifty feet before she heard her name.

“Buffy!”

“Ben, hey,” she offered him a smile as she turned to face him, coming to a stop. “What’re you doing out here?”

“I, uh, have an early shift at the hospital tomorrow. Figured I’d call it a night.”

He looked at her with concern, and Buffy took a moment to notice how… normal he looked. “Are you okay, I mean… whatever that girl was on, she pushed you pretty hard…”

“Oh, I’m fine.” Buffy waved a hand, smile in place. Her hand rubbed her shoulder instinctively.

“Do you want me to take a look at that?”

She shook her head. “It’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” He gave her one of those wholesome smiles he did so well. “Well, do you need a ride? I’m heading… nowhere in your direction, but I think it’d be safer. You know, late night and all.”

“No, it’s okay.” I’m actually headed to a store that specializes in the occult to talk about a girl with super strength that I’m pretty sure now that I think about it, was a robot and figure out a way to kick her perky, but not-as-cute-as-mine butt. “I’ll be fine. Really.”

“And you’ll call me?” He gave her another disarmingly shy smile.

She returned the expression, patting her pocket. “I’ll call you.” She watched him make his way back down the street, her head tilting slightly as he went.

“That’s gonna end in tears…” Buffy closed her eyes with a sigh, slowing turning towards the source of the baritone prediction. Spike was leaning against the alley wall, a bottle of what looked like whiskey dangling from his fingertips. She could see his damn eyes twinkling from where she was standing.

“What do you want, Spike?” She managed a tone of both exasperation and venom. It made her proud.

“What I can’t figure…” he continued, as if she hadn’t interrupted. He straightened, and she noticed he was favouring his right leg, but otherwise he seemed relatively uninjured from his trip through the window. “…is whether it’s going to be his heart that breaks, or yours.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “I mean, with your history, you’d think it’d be yours, but I have this niggling feeling that you’ll want to do the heartbreaking this time.”

“I told you to stay away from me.”

“I did. You walked my way.” He pointed out, tipping the bottle towards her as he unscrewed the lid. He took a long draught before offering her the bottle. Her expression didn’t change. He rolled his eyes at her glare. “Funny little happenstance, innit?”

“No…” Buffy said thoughtfully, touching her shoulder as it twinged. “Funny is you making like a football through the window.” Her tone had switched to bright and faux-perky.

Spike gave her a brief, side-on glare from under an arched brow, taking another mouthful of whisky. “Can’t say you’re looking too hot either, love.” He nodded his head at her shoulder. “Did you follow me through?”

Buffy scowled at him. She could hear sirens approaching, and she glanced up and down the street, reluctantly stepping into shadowed alley. Last thing she needed was the cops to think she was fleeing the scene or something. And with her history, they probably would.

“You know, for someone who says they don’t want me around, you don’t ever seem to want to leave.”

“I’m avoiding the cops, you idiot,” Buffy shot back, keeping a wary distance between them. ”And what do you mean it’s going to end in tears? What’s wrong with him?”

“Oh, please.” Spike rolled his eyes, wincing as stepped towards her. He threw the now-empty bottle towards the nearby dumpster. It smashed. “Didn’t you learn anything from the last cut of whole wheat you went through?”

Buffy folded an arm around herself, the other hand holding her shoulder. “You’re a pig, Spike.”

Spike grinned at her. “I love it when you talk dirty, pet.” He stepped in again, closing the distance between them. Buffy stood her ground, jaw set. “It makes me feel all tingly.” His face was barely inches from hers. “Do it again.”

“I hate you.”

Spike’s smirk grew. “Keep telling yourself that, love.”

“Don’t call me that.” She spat at him.

“Stop me.”

Buffy punched him, her teeth gritted. Spike stumbled backwards, hand on his nose. Buffy smiled grimly. “I’m not your ‘love’.” She hit him again as he stood straight, and he hit the trashcans against the wall, sending them crashing to the ground. He licked the cut on his lip, smirk still present. “Why are you still smiling?” She hit him again as she said the last word. His back hit the wall.

“You still can’t seem to keep your hands off me.”

Buffy raised a fist and he caught her forearm as she swung, pulling her to him and smashing his lips to hers. Buffy gasped, and he pushed his tongue into her mouth, his hands gripping her arms tightly. She tasted so bloody good. He barely gave her a chance to process what was happening before he was gripping the nape of her neck tightly, his other hand moving to squeeze her waist. He angled her head to kiss her more deeply, his jaw tight.

Buffy wrenched herself free from his mouth suddenly, a look of shock and horror on her face. Both of them were breathing heavily, Spike’s hand still at her waist. She stared at him with wide eyes, taking in the look of naked lust and passion in his eyes. Her skin burned through her clothes where his hand touched her, and her stomach felt tight as she forced herself to exhale.

“There isn’t one good reason why this should happen.” Buffy said, her eyes dropping to his mouth for a moment. “And about a thousand reasons it shouldn’t.” She teetered for a moment. “There isn’t one… good reason…”

Spike’s hand squeezed her waist. “I won’t be able to keep my hands off you either.”

He pulled her towards him again and kissed her for a second time. This time, she responded immediately, and his back hit the wall hard as she wrapped her uninjured arm around his neck. She kissed him back, tongue moving against his. He groaned, his right hand sliding up her spine to tease the back of her neck. His other hand moved down to grip her ass, and she pushed herself against him eagerly.

His lips moved to her neck, teeth and tongue grazing over her skin as she slid a hand down his chest to untuck his shirt. He fingers found his stomach fervently, scraping fingernails over his abs. Spike growled, low in his throat, his hand slipping under the waist band of her jeans. His hand was cool against her skin, and she shivered deliciously.

Spike’s hand was teasing her, running over her ribs, his thumb brushing against the underside of her breast. It ducked down to trail over her stomach and find the hem of her shirt. He tapped a finger along the line of her waistband, before slipping under her shirt to trace a circle around her navel. She whimpered as his mouth found the skin behind her ear.

“That’s right, love.” He encouraged her as she pulled him closer. “Don’t fight it.”

Buffy brought his mouth back to hers, kissing him fiercely. She grabbed a hold of his collar to bring him flush against her, slinging her hips against his. She bit his bottom lip before pulling away and slamming him back against the wall. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

Spike grinned devilishly, tongue curling against his teeth. He helped her pull off her shirt, careful of her wounded shoulder. Casting her shirt to the ground, he let his hands return to her waist. His fingertips traced circles over her skin as his mouth found her neck. She moaned quietly, rolling her eyes when she felt his smirk against her skin. She drew him closer with her good arm, the other hand finding his belt buckle.

Surprised by her actions, Spike pulled away for a second, trying to meet her eyes. She focused instead on removing his shirt and duster, his belt hanging open. He tried to stifle a groan of pain as he shifted his weight as he lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist.

His leg shook under the extra weight, and he gritted his teeth as he turned and sat her on a pile of wooden pallets stacked against the wall. Too high. He lifted her again and pushed one of them to the ground, letting it smash on the pavement as he sat her back down.

Her mouth fastened to his fiercely as she tangled her fingers in his hair. Her weaker hand moved down his front, tracing the muscles of his abdomen as she made her way to the waistband of his jeans. His tongue slid into her mouth and she could taste the bourbon he’d just finished. Spike faltered slightly as she unfastened his jeans. He never expected to get this far. She wrapped her hand around his shaft, feeling it harden in her hand. Spike groaned as she began to pump her hand up and down without breaking the kiss.

He broke away to kiss her neck, teeth and tongue teasing the sensitive skin of her throat, his hand pulling the clip from her hair and letting it hang free in a mess of loose curls. She should have pushed him away then… even with the chip in his head, letting Spike near her neck was setting off warning signals in her brain. But instead, the goose bumps that danced over the back of her neck in warning only spurred her on.

Spike’s fingers unfastened her pants expertly, tickling the skin above her panties lightly. She wrapped her good arm around his neck and gripped his shoulder, lifting herself off the pallets enough for Spike to yank her pants down her legs. She kicked them off when they reached her ankles, wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him back to her. He kissed her, his fingers running over her thighs, feeling them shiver in an equal mix of cold and excitement.

His mouth moved to her jaw, and then her neck. He took a moment to tease her earlobe before kissing his way down her torso. He paused to tongue her nipple through the lace of her bra, smiling against her skin when she moaned. His fingers were digging into her waist, cold against her sensitive skin. He bit her breast lightly, continuing his journey down her front. He moved his hands from her waist to her thighs, tracing idle patterns on her skin as he encouraged her to spread them wider.

Buffy gasped at the first touch of his tongue to her pussy; a long, languid lick that lingered on her clit. He circled his tongue around it twice before pulling away and looking up at her from underneath his brows, a smirk in place. He pressed a kiss to her thigh.

“You know, pet, I—“

Buffy rolled her eyes, reaching down to push him back down. “Oh, shut up.”

He laughed against her, and she groaned in response. He pressed down on her clit with his tongue, his fingers on his left hand sliding from her thigh to tease the sensitive skin of her labia. He pushed his tongue inside her for a moment as she wrapped her legs around his head. The heels of her shoes dug into his back.

His tongue moved back up to her clit and he slipped two fingers inside her. Buffy ground against him as his mouth found her clit again, her moan making him smile. She gripped his hair with one hand, holding him against her, the other hand alternating between grasping the wood of the pallet for support and holding her breast. She pinched a nipple and palmed her breast, her grip on his hair tightening as he doubled his efforts.

Sitting where she was she could see out into the street. They were hidden in the shadow of the wall beside them, but she could see the few people driving or walking past the alley on their way from the party she’d just left. She should have felt exposed and panicked at being so close to them, but it sort of excited her.

Spike curved his fingers inside her and sucked on her clit and she bucked against him, biting her lip as an orgasm began to take over her. The vampire between her thighs pulled away as soon as he felt her begin to shake against him, chuckling as she tried to push him back against her.

He stood, licking his lip before he kissed her. She could taste herself on his tongue, and she wrapped her arms around his neck eagerly. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pushing his jeans down his thighs. The head of his cock brushed against her clit and she whimpered. She kissed his neck, her teeth grazing against his jawline as she ran an arm over his shoulder and down his arm. His hands held her waist tightly, his eyes rolling back as her tongue teased the hollow of his throat and her hand found his dick.

She guided him to her opening, inhaling sharply as he pushed inside slowly. He corkscrewed his hips sinking in inch by inch as she gripped his shoulder with her uninjured hand. He kissed her with every move of his hips, and she had to stop herself from giggling at how ridiculous the situation was. She was having sex with Spike… and she was finding it sweet. Like, actually sweet.

It felt like he was filling her up, stretching her as he slid insider her, angling his hips. His teeth grazed her bottom lip as he began to move inside her slowly so that he was almost completely leaving her before thrusting in again. Buffy felt her almost-orgasm begin to crest again, and she clung to him desperately, meeting his hips with hers.

She exhaled a loud moan shakily as her climax hit, her head falling against his shoulder as her body shook. Spike didn’t pause, his fingers curling in her hair as she came down. He kissed her hard, his hand moving to unclip her bra. Pulling it from her body, his left hand finding her breast and tracing its curve and then her areola, before running his thumb over her nipple. He tested the weight of her breast in his hand, squeezing it gently.

She scraped her fingernails over his chest and down over his stomach, biting her lip as her breath mixed with moans. He gripped her thighs, sliding her even closer to him. She leaned back on her good arm, meeting his hips eagerly. He leaned over her, his mouth meeting her breast eagerly. Her free hand moved to her other breast, matching the pressure of his lips and tongue. The pallets shook under their thrusts as they became more erratic, and Spike held onto the top one in a futile attempt to steady it.

Buffy felt a second orgasm build as Spike’s teeth grazed her hardened nipple, and her fingers tightened around her breast, digging into the sensitive skin. She moved forward to sit against him, her chest meeting his as she wrapped her arms around his neck again. She rose off the pallets to thrust against him, and Spike stumbled back slightly as his injured leg wobbled, his back hitting the wall.

She winced as her shoulder twinged, ignoring the pain as Spike angled his hips to penetrate her more deeply, and she cried out as she came again. Her teeth dug into his shoulder as she tried to muffle it, and Spike groaned loudly, his head falling back and meeting the wall as he came with her, his knees buckling slightly.

“Fuck, Spike…” Buffy’s body shook as her orgasm began to subside, and she clung to his shoulder with her good arm, the other one draped around his neck. Her hips still moved against his slightly, and she could feel Spike begin to harden again inside her.

Spike chuckled almost deliriously, and she kissed him again, her hands on his cheeks. His leg wobbled again, and he bit her lip. Lifting her off, he kissed her before she could complain, moving to lie on his back and bring her down with him. His fingers moved down to her quim, teasing her clit for a moment and smiling as her head fell against his shoulder with a moan.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Slayer…” He moaned as she sat up, guiding him back inside her. A shiver ran up her spine as he filled her up again, and she arched her back as she sunk all the way down to the hilt. She ran a hand through her hair as she began to move, swiveling her hips in a full, slow circle. Spike forced himself to keep his eyes open, watching her as she bit her lip and fondled a breast. “You’re gonna be the bloody death of me.”

“Mmm…” Buffy smiled as she increased her speed, her hand leading her hair over her shoulder as she moved to his chest. Her fingernails dug into his skin, leaving scores behind them.

“You’re bloody. Fucking. Incredible, you are.” Spike punctuated every disjointed part of his sentence with a moan, eliciting a grin from Buffy as she rolled her hips again, her head lolling to the side. She leaned back, one hand gripping his thigh and the other returning to her chest. Spike squeezed her hip, and he reached up with his free hand to trail his fingertips from the bottom of her cleavage to her navel. He wanted to taste her sweat, salty and excited. He heavy breathing caught as his free hand met her clit.

“Spike?” Her voice came out hoarsely, in this breathy tone that made Spike die a little inside.

“Yeah, baby?” His fingers pushed against her clit, sending a spasm through her.

Don’t react to that, Buffy bit her lip, closing her eyes as she tried to control herself. He called you baby… it’s not a big deal. She fixed him with a smile. “Shut up.”

Spike smirked, and it sent a shiver up her spine. “Right then…”

He grabbed hold of both her hips, so tight that Buffy could feel her skin begin to bruise. He angled his hips and began to thrust against her, meeting her thrusts on her every downward movement. Buffy’s moans became louder and she planted hands on either side of his shoulders, leaning over him and shuddering as the new angle caused her clit to brush against his pubic bone with every grind she did against him.

Her hair hung around his face and Spike pulled her back to his mouth, tasting the sweat along the pulse point of her neck before bring her lips back to his. He kissed her deeply, curling his fingers in her hair. His other hand moved over her hip, squeezed her ass, tickled her spine and caressed her shoulder. His grip tightened in her hair and his other hand moved to her breast as she slowed her pace for a moment, grinding against him for a long, agonizing moment before resuming a frenzied pace.

Spike growled loudly, and he pinched her nipple. Buffy bit his lip, kissed his neck, and pushed hair out of her face.

“Fuck, I love your hair,” Spike kissed her again, his tongue lingering against hers. He loved the taste of her, every part of her. “You burn me up, Slayer.”

Buffy sat up again, bouncing on his cock and ignoring the way the concrete of bit into her knees. “Didn’t I… Didn’t I tell you to…. stop talking?”

Spike grinned up at her, holding her ass tightly with both hands. “If wishes were… fuck… If wishes were horses, love.”

“You’re a dick,” Buffy shot back. Even as she said it, her own hand wandered down her torso to tweak a nipple and further down to her clit. Spike watched as two fingers circled it, his tongue curling against his teeth. He grabbed her by the hips, and thrust up against her, and Buffy cried out as he moved in and out of her with a new fervor. She arched her back, squeezed her breast and teased her clit frantically. “Fuck… Spike… I’m gonna…”

“I’m with you, Slayer…”

Buffy let out a strangled noise somewhere between a moan and a scream as another orgasm overtook her, and Spike pushed himself onto an elbow, reached out and balled a fist in her hair, pulling her mouth to his and swallowing her moans. She was squeezing him exquisitely, wringing his cock as she tightened around him. She shuddered around him as she began to come down, and she tangled her fingers tightly in his hair. Her forehead touched his for a moment before she kissed him again. Her mouth moved over his jaw to his neck.

She hesitated for a moment before sucking the skin hard, her hips still moving against his as he continued to thrust into her. A second wave to her orgasm found her again and she bit down around her moan in response, her teeth digging into his neck. Spike’s eyes widened and he came with a shout, his hips shooting up against hers as he shot inside of her.

Spike fell back panting as his orgasm subsided, his grip on her hair loosening. He patted her hair softly, feeling her shake slightly. Buffy opened her eyes after a moment, moving her mouth from neck self-consciously. She licked her lips, tasting the tiniest hint of blood on her tongue.

She sat up slowly, carefully letting him slide out of her. She sat back on his thighs, making a subconscious move to cover herself before she realized there was no point. Spike propped himself up on his elbows and Buffy immediately moved to stand up, struggling on her shaky knees. Spike moved to help steady her, but she shook off his hand.

Spike shook his head derisively, watching her struggle to find her clothes and dress. “So, you’re thinking about those thousand reasons, then?”

Buffy looked at him, her expression slightly withdrawn as she pulled on her jeans. “I have to meet the others at the Magic Box. Gotta figure out what exactly your new friend is.”

“Right. Official White Hat business.” Spike nodded, standing up and fastening his jeans. “All that rot.”

Buffy threw him his shirt and pulled on her own, trying to fix her hair back into its previous fashion. “Comes as part of the job.”

Rubbing her injured shoulder, Buffy turned towards the mouth of the alleyway. “I’m gonna be late.” She sighed.

Spike shrugged, sliding his arm into the sleeve of his duster. “Careful, Slayer. You’re treading on the dark side, acting like that.”

“I think I’ve reached my quota on dark side for the night,” Buffy cocked an eyebrow at him, and he couldn’t help but smirk at her.

“Well, Slayer, you ever get tired of playing chastity belt with the rest of the fluffy bunny gang, give me a call.” He grinned at her, lighting a cigarette and inhaling deeply.

Buffy glared at him. “It’s not going to happen again, Spike.”

“You keep telling yourself that, pet.”

“It’s not. It can’t, remember?”

Spike rolled his eyes, nodding. “Yeah, yeah.” He grabbed her good arm, pushing her up against the wall again. He flicked away his cigarette and moved close to her, invading her personal space. He smirked at her. “But at some point you’re gonna want my ‘hot, tight little body’ again, and next time, I might not be so friendly.”

Buffy scoffed, pushing him away. “Stay away from me, Spike.”

Spike chuckled. “Not a chance of that now, love. I’m under your skin now, just like you’re under mine. You’re gonna crave it, and I’m gonna be there when you break again.”


End file.
